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Frances Sears was my mother. When I was about 15 or so, and feeling independent, I wanted to go somewhere, I don’t remember where. Apparently, it was somewhere that Mom felt a lad of my age should not go to, she was probably right. Well, I was having none of that and I argued the point most passionately. When I did so, my mother asserted her point repeatedly, I think shaking a dishcloth in my direction. Well finally we were standing facing each other about a foot apart. Now you must realise that at this point in life I was significantly taller than her. As she looked up at me, we both suddenly found the humour of the situation and burst out laughing. Needless to say, I did not go anywhere that night.